


The First Homunculus

by anewmigrant



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Adoptive family, Anal Sex, Bara X Shota, Fluff and Angst, Foreplay, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anewmigrant/pseuds/anewmigrant
Summary: Selim Bradley's life was saved the day Father made him into a homunculus, but it would be many years before he finally saw the world.
Relationships: Pride/Wrath
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	The First Homunculus

**Author's Note:**

> Giving you a little Prath for Father's Day! :-)

Selim was a frail boy. 

Father found him in a dumpster sleeping soundly, tossed aside by the world and exhausted himself from crying his eyes out. Despite his pitiful existence, Father saw a placid and quiet being unlike any of the other noisy, pestering humans. So, he brought the boy home.

Upon closer inspection, Father realized that the boy’s soul had already left his body. He was still alive, but only technically. Even a philosopher’s stone could not regenerate a missing soul. Just when he was on the brink of death, Father had an idea. It was something he had never done, but it was potentially possible. If he were able to split a fragment of his own soul, the Dwarf in the Flask, perhaps it could take on new life inside the body of this baby boy. Father was well-learned in the subject of human transmutation, but this was unheard of. No human being could divide their soul into pieces, but for a homunculus it just might be possible.

That was when Father remembered the book Von Hohenheim would read every night while he was still a servant. In this world, humans revered a single divine creator known as God. Father had a difficult time understanding this concept, as he was closer to being God then anything else on Earth. However, it always fascinated him to learn about the philosophy of humans. One story in particular explored the seven sins of mankind. 

That was it. If he could peel a sin from his soul, Father could create an artificial, second soul to live inside. If it were possible, the boy would have to live off of a Philosopher’s Stone. If he were ever to lose it, he would to return to the form he is in now: a baby starting its life over. Understanding this risk, Father decided he would do it. It was foolish, it was a waste of time, but if he saved this human, the boy would be more than human. He would be an asset to Father: his first full creation.

Selim was a frail boy, but he was going to live. 

Selim was a frail boy. He was going to live, but he was not going to wake up.

Not for a long time.

Ten years later, Selim opened his eyes on the morning of October 3rd. His life began for the second time on his tenth birthday.

He was in a hospital bed with a wide window. Outside, the people of Central city filled the streets with noise and chatter. The sun was shining down on the city through a layer of cloud cover. Despite the clouds, the sun was shining through today. 

There was a knock at his door. Selim turned his head to the side, slowly figuring out how to move this new, strange body. He had a sense of himself that was innately inhuman. His senses were growing stronger. He had full perception of the room as well as the entire floor of this hospital. Anywhere there was light, there was shadow, and he was slowly able to see the world through the shadows around him. It was complex, but his mind was slowly getting a handle on it.

“Selim?” Father called out his name, closing the door behind himself and sitting on the chair at the boy’s bedside. 

Selim was finally able to sit upright. He gripped the sheets covering up his hospital gown. It was the only thing he had to himself. Otherwise, he was barefoot without a single scrap of clothing beneath. It made him feel vulnerable. He still had no clue what he was doing here or what he was doing before. The memories he had up until now were hazy and confused. He remembered things like being in Father’s laboratory and listening to him speak. Without ever having seen him before, he knew that it was he who was sitting before him.

“Father? Is that you?” Selim said. 

The man nodded. “Selim,” he said, his gruff, masculine voice instantly setting the boy’s chest at ease. “You are the first homunculus. I made you from a piece of my soul. You are my Pride.”  
Selim’s little fingers were trembling. “You made me? I’m… not human?” 

Father put his big, warm hands over Selim’s tiny ones. The boy breathed a sigh of relief as Father showed him just what he could do. He revealed the palm of his hand where a ruby red Philosopher’s Stone was crackling. It resonated with the one inside of Selim’s forehead, causing his whole body to glow red. Father stroked his cheek, making Selim feel safe and protected. He could feel it. This man was his creator. “Come, Pride,” Father said, “You have much to learn.” 

Selim arrived at the border town in Ishval late in the afternoon. The sun was still high, bearing down on the desert without relent. Father dressed him in a style fit for a boy of high society: a dress shirt and vest, with a pair of slacks made into shorts, high sock garters, and smart, brown business shoes. As he swung the door to Father’s vehicle open and wiggled around his feet in search of the ground, the Amestris soldiers rushed to his side to help him. 

“Young Mister Bradley!” The soldier saluted him. “I hope your journey was well, sir. Colonel Roy Mustang will show you to our main encampment.” 

Selim looked up at the men surrounding him with big, kind eyes. “Thank you. I’m sorry, I still don’t really know what a lieutenant is…” The blushed bashfully and hid his face. 

The soldiers were smitten instantly. He was so sweet and innocent; the complete opposite of their commanding officer, who happened to be his father. Selim’s gentle and soft demeanor put their hearts at ease. Mustang took the boy’s suitcase from the soldier driving the car, his brow twitching as he realized he was being assigned as a temporary babysitter. Regardless, this was King Bradley’s son, and he was going to be eaten alive if he didn’t take the utmost care of him.

“Sorry Mister Mustang. Is it heavy?” Selim asked.

The boy’s big, dark eyes melted his heart. He couldn’t get mad at this kid. He was way too cute. “Not at all, kid. I mean, sir? Uh, anyways. I’ll take you to your dad.” 

Mustang led him through the Ishvalan settlement, a relatively large town that served as a hub for neighboring villages. At one point, it was a center of culture and innovation, with tall buildings similar to the ones in central. Now, the town was fully occupied. Most of the streets were blocked off by the military, with the surrounding neighborhoods converted into medical tents, supply centers, and barracks. Father told him it would be safe, but Selim was starting to feel homesick. 

“Mister Mustang? Is my dad really here?” Selim asked.

“Of course,” Mustang said. “The Fuhrer has been expecting you.

They parted the tent in the middle of the encampment and entered the war room. King Bradley was holding a meeting of his generals, who promptly went silent upon the intrusion.  
“Fuhrer, Generals,” Mustang said, saluting them. “You son, Selim, has arrived.” 

Selim poked his head out from behind Mustang’s leg, nervously avoiding the gaze of the soldiers around the room. He looked at each one in turn, trying to figure out which one was him. 

The man at the head of the table, an intimidating statue of a man almost six-and-a-half feet tall. His gaze was terrifying. He held court in the room without a word, leaving everyone nervous as to what his next words would be. “Major Tucker, the doctors have requested your presence. Everyone else, you are dismissed.” The men dispersed from the map of Ishval in the middle of the room, giving Selim appraising looks as they parted ways. It was a mystery to the rest of the soldiers why King Bradley would have his son sent out to a war zone, especially during the war with Ishval. A battlefield was no place for a child.

The Fuhrer crossed the room with a confident stride. He held out his hand to Mustang, leaving the colonel dumbstruck.

Oh, shit! He’s being nice! Mustang chided. He took the Fuhrer’s hand and was the victim of his almighty handshake.

“Thank you so much for escorting my son, colonel. Please, allow me to take his things,” Bradley said.

Mustang nodded with a dumb look on his face and handed over Selim’s belongings. The Fuhrer manhandled the full suitcase with ease. He crouched down next to Selim and outstretched his arms. “Selim!” he said with a sweet grin. “Come to papa! You have no idea how much I missed you.” 

His anxiety was soothed by Bradley’s warmth. He reminded Selim of Father. He was a big, strong man, but his demeanor was kind and caring when he wanted to be. Selim ran into his, surprised when King Bradley put his arms around him and scooped him up into his powerful, warm embrace. The Fuhrer smelled good. He smelled like a man. Selim wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, so he nestled himself in the man’s neck and tried to mimic the way he was holding him. 

“Colonel, you may return to your post,” Bradley said. Mustang saluted him and then promptly left them to their devices.

Bradley returned to his helm. “It’s good to see you Pride,” he said. His voice and demeanor were completely different now. He had an aura of malice. 

“Who are you?” Pride asked.

Bradley sat at the table, hands folded. “I am Wrath. Have a seat, Pride. Let me brief you on the current situation.”

He gave the boy an explanation of the Amestrian conflict with Ishval, but instead of telling pride of Father’s plans to harvest people for Philosopher’s Stones, he instead told them they were seeking resources in the land. He thought it was silly not to explain the situation properly, but Father was particularly precious about Pride.

“You’re a homunculus, too? But father said I was the first homunculus,” Pride said.

Wrath sighed. “Well, you were asleep for a long time Selim. We have quite a few new siblings now.” 

“Really?” Pride bounced in his seat. “Oh wow! I wanna meet them!” 

“You will,” Wrath chuckled. “In time. First, you have to get experience being on the battlefield. We have had a problem occupying this location due to roaming bands of chimeras. It seems Ishvalan alchemists have been breeding them to rapidly grow their numbers. It’s problematic for ordinary soldiers, and we can’t very well have homunculi working on the front lines. However, they will be useful for the purpose of demonstration.”

Pride slumped down in your seat. “I have no idea what any of that means. Does Father really think I can fight?” 

Wrath leaned in, smiling right in the boy’s face. “Oh, Pride. You have more power than any of us. I’m sure you’ll be able to bring it out.”

His face was so close. He could feel Wrath’s breath on his cheeks and flushed instinctively. Instinctively, he reached out and touched the eyepatch on Wrath’s left eye. Wrath turned his eyes down to the floor, bowing his head and becoming docile as the little boy peeled up his eye patch and revealed Wrath’s homunculus brand. “What is it?” Pride asked softly.

“It proves I am a homunculus, just like you.” He looked down at Pride’s boy shorts and ran his large, calloused hand up Pride’s soft, milky thigh. The boy looked down with a gasp and saw the man pushing up his shorts until he revealed a deep crimson tattoo of their brand. Pride put his tiny hand over Wrath’s huge one. His heart was racing. He realized that the man’s hand felt really good and it was making him short of breath. 

Colonel mustang rushed back into the tent shouting, “Fuhrer! We have chimeras spotted by the medical ward! They’ve taken a wounded soldier!” His face dropped when he noticed how close they were.  
“Oh, Selim!” Bradley fretted. “Your clothes are a mess!” He straightened out the boy’s seams. “Who dressed you this morning? Where was your mother?” 

Pride looked shocked for a second, then quickly began to play along. “Sorry, daddy. I thought I could do it myself today.” He stuck out his bottom lip and pointed his big eyes up at Bradley. They were definitely acting weird, but the Colonel already had a sense that the Fuhrer and his family were a bit strange anyway. 

“Right,” Bradley said. “Now go. Track them down but do not engage them. I will dispatch these ones myself.” Mustang rushed back outside and they were alone once again.

Selim looked up at the man. “Do I have to go with you?”

“Come now, Pride. Stay close to me and you will be safe.” 

The scouts followed the chimeras to an abandoned grocery store at the edge of the Amestrian encampment. The main street suffered heavy damage during the initial invasion, and the most prominent buildings had massive holes in their walls and windows. Most of the shops were looted a long time ago and left in shambles, with their internal infrastructure repurposed into makeshift nests for chimeras to hide in.

A line of uniformed soldiers saluted Bradley on his arrival. The one in front addressed him. “Sir! The chimeras are inside! Victim has lost a lot of blood, unlikely that they survived, sir.”  
Bradley sighed, drawing his two swords. “A tragic fate for an honorable soldier. We will have a proper military funeral for them once we return to central. Now, I want your unit to hold the line outside the nest. I want you to open fire on anything that steps outside this shop.

The soldiers shook before him. “Y-Yes sir. Shall we keep your son safe as well?” one asked.

Bradley shook his head. “Selim will stay by my side. He is ready to see the enemy we fight for the sake of Amestris. Now then, men, to your positions.” 

Shocked that they even thought about questioning his authority, the soldiers saluted him once more before running across the street and setting up a defensive line with their rifles at the ready. It was against their every protocol, but the Fuhrer’s men knew better than to question their king. If it was his wish to bring Selim into an active battlefield, he certainly knew what he was doing. 

The inside of the store was eerie. It was very dark, despite being light outside. The further they went inside, the more damage they found. The power grid was long since destabilized in this area. The shelves were all empty and most of them were toppled and laid on the floor. It made it impossible to see what was behind them. 

Despite the insidious setting, Wrath proceeded with an aura of confidence. Pride clung to his leg, his eyes darting around rapidly in search for danger. A can rolled out from behind one of the shelves. A thick trail of blood led from the street all the way to the back of the store. The closer they got, the better they could hear the sloshing of chimeras feasting on human flesh. 

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your last meal. There are no delicacies where I am sending you,” Wrath said, brandishing his swords on either side. In a second, the silence in the store was broken. There was a loud crash as lion-type chimeras jumped out from behind the shelves on either side of Wrath. More of them rushed out from the nest, fresh blood still dripping from their muzzles. Human chimeras at least resembled humans, but these were inbred through existing chimeras. They were completely rabid and impossible to control, which further destabilized the nation of Ishval. “You can’t have the humans in this region. They are spoken for,” he said. 

Four chimeras jumped on him at once. Pride shook his head and cowered in the shadow of Wrath as he flicked his butterfly blades in a swirling dance of death, slicing the chimeras to ribbons. They exploded with blood and fell to the floor in pieces and pelts. Pride blinked his eyes and they were dead in an instant. It shook him to his core. It was pure, unadulterated violence. Furthermore, it didn’t faze Wrath at all. As a homunculus, Pride could sense the man’s heartbeat and breathing without even focusing on it. Wrath was calm. He felt no anxiety in the heat of battle. He knew he was going to win.  
It was over in an instant. The walls were painted bright red with fresh blood, but there wasn’t a drop on them. 

“You killed them so fast,” Pride said, walking forward. “Can’t we save the human?” 

“You fool! Get away from there!” Wrath shouted with a lurch. It was too late. Pride took a step into the nest and barely got a look at the babies when the mother jumped directly into his face, fangs bared like a vicious cobra. Wrath’s sword was quick, but it was simply impossible to move it that far, that fast. 

Instead, he threw his body in front of Pride. The lion chimera bit into his neck and ripped out a massive chunk, chewing on the flesh in a ravenous fury. Pride watched in horror as Wrath’s body was torn apart directly on top of him. He was shaking in fear, but also in anger. Wrath put himself into harm’s way for him and now he was going to end up just like that dead soldier. 

“You monster!” Pride yelled. His voice was thick with malice. For a moment, the kind boy Selim was gone and he was full homunculus. Long shadows surged through the room, cast through the windows. They were beckoned forth to Pride and skewered the body of the chimera mother at high speed from all different angles. It was raised up by black spears of darkness that twinged and wiggled. They were covered in eyes. 

Pride’s shadows tossed the chimera to the floor with a sickening crack. “Wrath!” he cried, reaching up to try and help. He expected Wrath to fall to the floor, but instead he turned around.

“Watch closely, boy,” Wrath said. “This is what it means to be a homunculus.” His skin was already knitting itself closed. His skin crackled with red lightning as it sewed itself back together at a dramatic rate. He lost a lot of blood, but he wasn’t bothered by it in the slightest. One minute he was gravely wounded, and the next he was perfectly fine. The wound healed, but there was a thin scar running from his chest over his shoulder and toward his back. 

Pride stroked the scar with his strong fingers. “Does it hurt?” he asked meekly.

Wrath frowned, but softly ran his hand over Pride’s head. “It does, but don’t be afraid,” he said. “As long as Father has appointed you as my son, I will protect you.” He took stock of the situation, looking at the violence at his feet. “From the looks of it, you won’t need it very much.” 

Pride finally realized what he had done. The shadows were dancing around him now, tiny little hands wiggling happily as his mood began to improve. Wrath made him feel safe, just like Father, but there was something different there as well. Wrath had a particular interest in him. He touched him in a way that was tender, but also uniquely human. Part of being a homunculus, as much as they hated to admit it, meant being part human. They were equal parts human and homunculi. Father’s touch was protective, but Wrath’s touch was sensual. “This is my power, huh?” Pride asked, playing with the cute little shadow hands around him.” 

Wrath smiled, laughed, guffawed even. “Come on, you deserve a hot meal after your first battle.” He sniffed Pride’s clothes, making a sour face. “And a bath!” Pride giggled. For the first time since he woke up, he felt like a real boy with a real father. 

When they returned to the military camp, the other officers stood completely stunned to see Bradley and his sun covered in a coating of fresh blood. The Fuhrer always did his work flawlessly. To see them both so marred by battle told them everything they needed to know: the King got into another bloodbath. 

“Sir, Fuhrer King Bradley, sir! Your appearance is highly, distressing, sir! We humbly request you allow us, your soldiers, to fight on the front line for you, sir!” Mustang addressed him upon rival, taking particular note of Selim. It wasn’t simply the fact that he was soaked in chimera blood that concerned him; the kid was totally fine! It was really starting to grate on his conscience. Not only did Bradley take his ten-year-old son into an active war zone, but the kid wasn’t even distressed! The Bradley family was definitely a freaky bunch, not that he would ever express that sentiment. 

Bradley brought his son to a nearby hotel where the army had a lodging prepared specifically for him. A large suite was converted into their private room with around-the-clock watch. It wasn’t much, just a few pieces of well-made wooden furniture and a couple of houseplants and portraits to make the room feel lived-in. It wasn’t much, but it was better than sleeping in a bedroll in the barracks tents with the other soldiers. 

Selim wanted nothing more than to rest, but the proximity of their bodyguards made it impossible to speak candidly as a homunculus. As long as it was Father’s wish for their identities to remain a secret, he would have to play along with this charade. 

“Papa, there’s only one bed,” Selim remarked, bouncing up and down on the mattress. 

Bradley shed his military coat and tossed it in the trash. He rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt and breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, son, there’s nothing wrong with that. You’ll always be daddy’s little boy.” 

What was this feeling? Wrath reminded him so much of Father that it was difficult to relate to him, but when he showed this human side, the side that was pure Bradley, it made Selim feel good inside. “Um… Papa?” Selim said, trying to find a way to say the words without betraying their secret to the world. “I’m glad you’re my dad. You’re the only one who really understands me.” Bradley was caught off-guard, his mustache curling up. 

“Come on, son. Let’s get you in the bath.” 

Bradley was a beautiful man. There was no two ways about it. Even before becoming a homunculus, intense daily military training left him with a chiseled chest, hairy washboard abs, and large, strong biceps. He filled the bathtub with ease, letting his arms and legs spill up and over the sides. The tub was filled with swirling bubbles that built up giant peaks over his shoulders. “Take off those soiled clothes, Selim. Father sent you plenty of other things to wear in your luggage,” Bradley said.

Selim was nervous again, his tiny body trembling under the man’s scrutinous gaze. Bradley was so much bigger than him, it made him feel inadequate. “Are you sure? This body isn’t nearly as developed as yours, Wr-” He squealed. “Um, as yours, Papa!” 

Bradley shook his head. “Now, Selim. Don’t be ridiculous. You can trust me,” he said. He extended a hand to the boy. The boy took it. With Selim caressing him, he undid the boy’s buttons and removed his vest. He undid each button on his white shirt and exposed that soft, supple, pink flesh. Selim was a frail, beautiful boy, and he belonged to Bradley now. Pride may have been his older sibling, but Wrath was his father now. 

Selim was only in his briefs now. Tight, white briefs. They clung to his chubby little bum, still rife with baby fat. Bradley hooked his fingers into the front and discarded them gently, letting Selim’s tiny penis bob out into the bathroom. “I want to be big and strong like you, Papa,” Selim said dejectedly. 

Bradley’s heart sank. He cupped the boy’s chin in his hand and pulled him in close for a gentle kiss on the lips, swiping his tongue back and forth and making Selim giggle. “You will be, son. You will be.”  
The boy snuggled into the lap of his Papa, laughing playfully as he water lapped at him with bubbly waves. Selim was so incredibly frail at birth, but lying against Bradley’s big chest and nestling in between his pecs made him feel strong and supported for the first time in his life. Maybe playing house with the Fuhrer wouldn’t be so bad. If it meant endless days like this, he could definitely get used to it. 

Bradley ran his big hands over Selim’s tiny body, covering him in soap suds while giving him a deep, relaxing massage. Wrath visited Pride in the hospital several times after he was created. He wondered again and again what it would be like once the boy woke up. Would he like him? Would they be compatible? So many things ran through his head, but never the possibility of falling in love with him.  
Bradley ran his fingers up Selim’s chest slowly. Selim’s body was trembling with pleasure this time. It felt so good to be pressed against this man’s chest while his hands were running over his body with an expert touch. “P-Papa, it feels really tingly,” Selim moaned.

“Does it feel good?” Bradley cooed into the boy’s ear, smirking to himself as Selim nodded. He worked his way up to those pert, pink nipples, tugging them up with the gentlest amount of pressure. A blush spread across Selim’s entire body. It didn’t just feel good. It felt amazing. Bradley’s fingers were big and hot and worked his little body over perfectly. “Daddy will make you feel really good,” Bradley huffed.

His hands were traveling down now. They reached Selim’s little cocklet and tugged it gently. Selim was moaning openly now, his tongue lolled out in pleasure. Bradley leaned in and outstretched his tongue as well, licking the boy’s saliva up and pressing him into a kiss. The boy’s balls were being tugged while his baby foreskin was being pulled up. It was uncomfortable and amazing all at the same time. “Do you want me to keep going?” Bradley whispered in Selim’s ear.

Selim wanted more. He wanted to feel good.

They rolled around in bed in a heap of hot, sweaty bodies. There was no need to get dressed after the bath. Bradley carried his boy in his arms to the bed and laid down with him in his arms. Selim took advantage of the chance to explore the immense, mighty body curled around him. Bradley flexed his biceps as Selim ran his little fingers over them, the boy cooing excitedly as he felt those peaks he’s been staring down since the moment they met. 

Selim sat on his lap, reaching up and rubbing Bradley’s large pecs and tweaking his big nipples. It was fun to play with him. He ran his hands down the man’s hairy treasure trail and finally arrived at his huge cock. It was bouncing against Selim’s stomach now, fully hard after their playtime in the bathtub. Their cocks were pressed together, making it apparent just how different they were. Selim’s way tiny and hairless: a cute little penis sitting on a soft, round bag of boy balls. Wrath’s was huge, hot, hard, and hairy. His bush alone swallowed up Selim’s entire cock. His head was big and red, drooling a constant stream of precum onto the boy’s stomach and all down his body. 

“Stroke my cock, Selim. It’s hard just for you,” Bradley guided him, wrapping Selim’s tiny fingers around the large cock and teaching him how to stroke it. The concentrated look on his boy’s face was just too cute. He was focusing on getting both his hands around Bradley’s cock, but they never wrapped all the way around. Instead, he stroked it up and down and continued to coax that hot, slimy liquid out of the man’s cock and all over his fingers. 

“It’s so wet, Papa,” Selim said in a lusty haze. Every inch of Bradley’s cock was coated in precum. Bradley pulled him into his chest, letting his cock fit between Selim’s pretty little ass and giving him another big kiss. This time, he forced his big tongue directly into the boy’s mouth and overpowering him. He tasted so beautiful. He ripped open a packet of lube and poured it directly down onto Selim’s asshole.

“Papa! That’s cold! And sticky!” Selim protested into the kiss. 

Bradley chuckled. “I’m going to make you feel good, remember? Don’t worry, son.” He forced his tongue back into his son’s mouth and began to wiggle a fat finger into his little pink hole. Selim shuddered at the feeling of being opened up by Bradley, but was surprised at how good it felt. At first it was uncomfortable, but the slop from Bradley’s cock and the lube was making it easy for the finger to spread him open. He was bouncing on Papa’s finger and grinding on his cock. He had no idea where Bradley learned how to feel so good, but he wasn’t going to stop. 

“Papa, please,” Selim begged. “More. Give me more.” He was panting now. Selim’s face was incredibly lewd for a boy his age. Bradley’s fingers were pulling his cheeks and his hole apart. The inside of his baby pink hole was wide open now and just begging to be bullied by Bradley’s big, thick cock. His cock kissed that little hole and as Bradley let it tighten back up, it sealed up around the tip of his cock. “It’s big. It’s really big, Papa.” 

Selim only slid down a couple of inches and he was already in love with Bradley’s cock. It was pressing up against his little boy button inside his butt. Bradley’s cock head was blunt. His shaft was thick and curved. It was arching up against his insides and making him feel like nothing he ever experienced. 

“Are you okay, son? You’re shaking,” Bradley said, wiping up a tear that escaped through the boy’s eyelashes.

Selim nodded, putting his hands on Bradley’s chest and laying his face down in that hairy chest. It was so warm and comforting and that was what he needed. He sank down another inch. And another. His ass was chasing his daddy’s balls and as another wet, sweaty inch disappeared inside him, Selim’s eyes would roll back and he would moan like a happy little boy. 

Bradley was bouncing his hips softly now, gentle little encouragements. He put his hands around Selim’s waist, his thumbs nearly meeting in the middle near his bellybutton. He took over the pacing and guided Selim up and down on his cock. Selim let his entire body weight slump down on Bradley’s chest as he slid up and down on his cock. Bradley was bottoming out now. His balls were grinding against the boy’s little butt. “I’m all the way in, son. All the way,” Bradley moaned. 

He reached down and stroked the boy’s cock with two fingers. Selim was spraying little spurts of boycum all over Bradley’s pubes as he rode his cock. It was so big. Selim could feel it punching his soft tummy from the inside every time it disappeared inside him. He threw his head back and started tweaking his nipples in an effort to mimic the way Bradley was teasing them in the tub. He was pouring sweat and breathing heavily. “Papa, help! It feels too good! It’s too good! I’m… I’m!” Selim was moaning like crazy. He couldn’t stop feeling good. His ass felt like it was going to split open in the best way possible.

He shot a rocket of watery cum right up to Bradley’s mustache. As it hit his face, Bradley’s balls bunched up tight against Selim’s ass as his whole cock vanished inside the boy. He sprayed volley after volley of white, hot cum into the boy’s stomach and made sure to plug him up so that nothing could escape. As he filled Selim up, he ground his hips and gave him needy little thrusts, slapping his balls against the boy with sloppy, wet sounds as his cock stirred up the cum inside of him. It was hotter and wetter than any human; more than his wife. 

“I love you, Selim,” Bradley said, pressed into the boy’s lips. 

Selim’s arms were tight around his neck. He never wanted to let go of his Papa. Never again. “I love you too, daddy,” Selim said, his big eyes pointed up as Bradley continued to gyrate his cock in the boy’s stomach. It was more than sex. The two were bonded forever now. They both came from the same being, and now they were returned to being one being once again. As they looked deep into each others’ eyes, Bradley slowly began thrusting his hips upward for round two. 

Selim’s eyes rolled back. It was going to be a long night.

Roy Mustang stomped down the hall of the hotel, holding an urgent telegram for the Fuhrer King Bradley to read at once. The security contingent stopped him as he approached the Fuhrer’s room, but immediately gave way to the Colonel’s rank and stature within the military. Mustang knocked on the Bradley’s door several times, but when there was no answer, he decided he should enter and see what was going on.

What he did not expect to see was Bradley and Selim in bed, naked, pressed together, with Bradley’s giant cock splitting open Selim’s ass. He silently excused himself from the room and closed the door behind him.

The Bradley family was very, very freaky.


End file.
